


we don't fight fair

by solongsoldier



Series: there's a light on [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chicago (City), Gen, Immortals, Modern Alchemy, Public Transportation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solongsoldier/pseuds/solongsoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the disembodied cta voice says "this is adams and wabash," and another alchemist gets on the train. it smells like acid and ashes and blood, like old-world wars and rotting produce and the must of books that haven't see the sun in a hundred years; it comes on so strong he almost chokes, the same way it always does, and ed swears under his breath. as the doors close, he gives the car a once over.</p><p>well. no one *looks* like a thousand year old mad scientist, but then again, ed still gets skeptical looks from the store clerks whenever he tries to buy booze, so that theory might not hold water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we don't fight fair

the disembodied cta voice says "this is adams and wabash," and another alchemist gets on the train. it smells like acid and ashes and blood, like old-world wars and rotting produce and the must of books that haven't see the sun in a hundred years; it comes on so strong he almost chokes, the same way it always does, and ed swears under his breath. as the doors close, he gives the car a once over.

well. no one _looks_ like a thousand year old mad scientist, but then again, ed still gets skeptical looks from the store clerks whenever he tries to buy booze, so that theory might not hold water.

when the disembodied voice informs him that doors open on the right at clark and lake, ed is off the el with his cell phone in his hand. "al," he says, half shouting over the sound of the rain. "i think i've got a problem."

"not again, brother," al says, slipping seamlessly into danish. they never talk in english if they can help it; there are far too many eager ears waiting to overhear things they shouldn't. "what have i told you about falling asleep on the train? you're going to end up in evanston again!"

"not that, okay, like a real problem," he mumbles, tugging his hood up. "like a there's-another-alchemist-in-my-city kind of problem. i caught the scent on the cta just now."

"not just another alchemist," alphonse muses, "another alchemist who doesn't play fair."

"none of us play fair," ed reminds him. "the short definition of what we do is try to come up with ways to get out of playing fair, actually."

"details," al says, and ed can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "as a group, alchemists may not be the most moral of people, but everyone with half a pulse on the stone knows who you are, and everyone who knows you knows chicago is practically a neon do-not-enter sign. they respect your territory, if nothing else."

"yeah, well, i guess it serves me right for assuming my reputation proceeds me." ed coughs. "i didn't recognize anyone on the train, but that doesn't mean a whole lot."

"it means less than nothing, actually," al says brightly, and ed can imagine his face as clearly as if he were waiting at home in ed's apartment and not in a bedroom on another continent. "i'll put in some calls, though, see if anyone important has turned up missing."

"thanks, al, you're the best."

"i know." he heaves a put-upon sigh. "i guess i'm fortunate that it's the middle of the night here, because i could really use a drink right about now."

ed laughs. "i guess _i_ am fortunate that i'm not above getting wasted at ten am on a thursday."

al says "thank god for that," and hangs up, but they've had enough years of practice that ed knows that that actually means 'i love you,' so he doesn't stress about it too much. 


End file.
